Toil and Trouble
by The Readers Muse
Summary: "The first thing he noticed as he switched on the lights was the silence. In fact it was so off-putting that his fingers paused in place, caught between flicking open the second button of his shirt as he cocked his head. ..Listening."


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Primeval or any of its characters. Wishful thinking aside.

**Authors Note #1:** I only just discovered this show a few weeks ago so I am brand spanking new in this fandom and this is my first fiction within it. So on that note, sorry for any errors or inconsistencies. It's always a bit nerve wracking posting in an awesome and obviously well established fandom. So hopefully I didn't bork up anything too major. *crosses fingers*

**Authors Note #2:** Setting after the credits roll on the last episode of the third season. (So spoilers up to the end of season three). Special thanks to _Fififolle_ for her helpful encouragement and lovely beta work. All mistakes are my own.

**Toil and Trouble**

It was a Friday. They'd disappeared on a Friday. A sunny, mild, Friday afternoon. Common and perhaps even downright boring in every respect save for one rather crucial detail. It was also the same day that Helen Cutter, deranged and undoubtedly mad, had tried to end the human race. - ..In fact, when he had a moment to think about it, he realized it was actually bloody well _typical_ of the irrepressible trio. They _would _decide to swan off on the _one_ day of the week he _actually _looked forward to.

_Impertinent little twats._

He didn't end up leaving until Lorraine decided to practically _tow_ him out of his office by his lapels. She'd already been and gone close to forty eight hours ago while he'd been there straight through. Coordinating the first rescue attempt with Becker, Sarah and his team only a few hours after it had become apparent that something had gone wrong. Hedging their bets on Helen's mysterious code and Sarah's hunch but losing steam near the climax. Presenting them with yet another dead end and ultimately sending them right back to square one. – It had been a botched job all around, but it had been a try nonetheless. The first of many if he had any say in the matter.

…But he supposed that was all beside the point really. Because even _he _had to sleep sometime.

He hadn't even made it to the car park before he'd rung home. And not unlike the countless times before, he lied. Only this time it hadn't even been a good one, simply too drained to make up yet another appalling excuse about last minute board meetings and picky foreign dignitaries as he let the exhaustion in his voice speak for itself. In fact he couldn't be arsed to hide it as he'd blamed an emergency at work. – But she swallowed the excuse nonetheless. Same as she always did. After all, she knew better than to ask.

_Good girl._

He tried to tell himself it was for the best as the children swarmed the line, wrestling for the phone in a burst of scratchy static and happy chaos as they quickly recapped their day at school. Chorusing out the usual endearments of "I love you Da'!" and "miss you loads!" when he was finally forced to bring the conversation to a close. – Their eager voices effortlessly splintering through all the stress and worry of the past two days as he replied in kind, unable to suppress a small exhausted smile as he shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the space.

Because the truth was that he just couldn't bear being at home right now. He couldn't just shut off. Not this time. Not after everything that had happened. Besides, they didn't deserve a husband and a father that was only half there. It wasn't fair to the lot of them and he knew it. - His wife's eternal displeasure be damned. Either way he was unwilling to stray too far from the ARC. He had to be nearby, just in case.

He headed back to his flat on autopilot, barely acknowledging the doorman's jaunty greeting as he made his way towards the lift. Suddenly feeling the full weight of the past forty eight hours as his sight wavered. Pinching the bridge of his nose as the beginning of an exhaustion born headache began to throb at his temples. _Christ he needed to sleep…_

He wasn't even through the door when he found himself loosening his tie. Barely registering the sound of the early morning traffic, as unaccustomedly clumsy fingers yanked far too hard on the expensive silk. Almost desperate to feel air on his skin as he tugged it loose, completely forgoing all his usual nightly rituals.

They were actions he normally took comfort in. Moments where he preferred to savour the slow unveiling. It was cathartic in a way he supposed, something of a release. But today? _Bugger civility_.

The first thing he noticed as he switched on the lights was the silence. In fact it was so off-putting that his fingers paused in place, caught between flicking open the second button of his shirt as he cocked his head. _Listening._

There was nothing. No computer pinging. None of Connor's blasted gadgets humming and beeping. Not even a single irritating _drip-drip_ from the kitchen. A sound indicative of Connor's apparent inability to follow_ anything_ all the way through, even if it was only turning off the kitchen tap.

He closed his eyes, feeling more than hearing the lock click in place behind him as he braced himself against the door. There had been a time, not that long ago, where he'd relished in this type of silence. – It had been one of the only constants in his life; something that he alone could both control and enjoy.

But now the silence just seemed off. _Wrong._ Somewhere along the line he supposed he must have gotten used to the noise. Even itchy and scratchy…_fine._ Sid and Nancy seemed uncommonly subdued, waiting a few tentative beats before gurgling softly. Chirping almost questioningly from their carrier on Connor's side of the living room as their blunt claws scrabbled morosely against the enforced wire of their cage.

Poor little buggers. They'd been properly forgotten in all the panic.

And for once he didn't think twice about the state of the hardwood or the very real possibility that the cheeky little blighters would do away with yet another of his suit jackets as he crossed the room and toed the lock to their kennel open. He watched them creep out at a pace that would have been more fitting as a funeral march than anything else as they shimmied their way to freedom.

But somehow the whole thing only served to send the full weight of everything that happened crashing down on him at once. - Somewhere in the background Sid clicked sadly, the sound suitably muffled as the awkward looking creature scented the air and did its best to get itself impossibly tangled in one of Connor's jackets. .._Christ. _

He fell more than sat down, hearing the cautionary notes he'd posted on the couch cushions crumple underneath him. Feeling the thick paper crinkle and rasp against his suit jacket as he sunk into the butter soft fabric. A couch so expensive it was still on bloody HP. _Money grubbing interior decorators. – Bastards, the lot of them._

And rather unaccustomedly a pang of guilt rose. Rising up his throat like bile, acrid and bitter as far too many emotions came up with it. - _Damn them. Damn himself. Damn all bloody three of them! _Because they were gone.. Perhaps even for good this time. Gone like Cutter, Stephen, and every other solider and civilian they'd lost since the ARC project had been formed. - _Just gone._

But before he could sink too far into self recrimination and doubt he was abruptly interrupted. Brought out of his reverie when the smaller one, nippy with a side of stalwart shyness; Nancy then, butted her scaly head against his knee. Rattling and chirping up at him as she nudged against one of his exhausted palms. Her efforts quickly joined by Sid a second later. With the both of them demanding their fair share of pats and head scratches; all too used to being fussed over.

Connor had spoiled them both terribly. That much was offendingly obvious. It was the same with Abby and that damn mammoth. He knew of course. After all he signed the expense budget for the gigantic thing. By all accounts it ate a tonne a day and then some. – Something he was cheerfully content to ignore however given the rather fortuitous conclusion to the whole Leek debacle. In fact, he'd been putting off finding a proper home for the creature for quite a while now. After all, you never could know when you might be needing a prehistoric mammoth to help tip the scales. He was living proof of that.

It wasn't until the duo shrilled at him that he finally obliged. Half convinced that they'd mutiny and chew a hidey hole in one of the cupboards again if their whims weren't suitably satisfied. …_Overgrown lizards._

It took a while, but after a time the two beasts finally appeared to settle. Batting their blunt little claws against his trouser hems and generally making complete nuisances of themselves as he let his mind wander. Not missing the way they kept circling back to Connor's mess of blankets and towering piles of wayward clothes. Apparently under the impression that they might accidentally unearth the boy if they looked hard enough.

He snorted rather indelicately. Watching with idle amusement as the pair enjoyed the run of the place. Clicking and burrowing through the younger man's abandoned jeans and sheets until they'd spread them clear across the floor like patches of spotty carpeting. Squeaking and tussling as they rolled about, as if determined to make up for the silence.

He smirked thinly, shaking his head as they chirped happily. Somersaulting over one of the magazine racks, Nancy nipped Sid in the behind, engaging him in a rather cut throat game of chase all the way down the hall and back until the pair crashed headlong into the coffee table. Because in a rather daft way they were exactly right. It didn't bode well to dwell on what was said and done. All he could do now was do his job and hope for the best. – They weren't going to give up on them. Not by a long shot.

And with that thought resounding in his mind, he rose. Feeling his shirt pull tight around his shoulders as Sid and Nancy gurgled hungrily, trotting around his heels in lazy circles and pouncing on each other until he finally gave in and decided that dinner for three was in order.

He clicked his fingers pointedly as the duo strayed dangerously close to his bedroom door. Taking care to mind his feet as the pair threaded through his legs as he walked, purring in excitement as he herded them towards the kitchen. Doing their best to rub against his shins and generally make complete idiots of themselves as he opened the fridge and set about making supper. - Determined not to let them trick him into parting with any table scraps.

_What was it that Connor had called them again? Ah, yes. Rugrats._

It wasn't until they'd packed away the lot that he decided to call it a night. – Too exhausted to do anything more than a quick wash up and a precursory dunk in the shower before he clicked off the lights and slid gratefully into bed. Brain still humming with half fired static and that unique, light headed buzz that comes part and parcel with one too many missed nights and far too much caffeine.

He was nearly asleep when the pair clicked and rustled from somewhere around the kitchenette and the adjoining living room. Snuffling and squeaking in a sad little chorus until he was tempted to toss one of the pillows over his head and just be done with it.

_Bo_llocks.__

It only took a few more piping trills before he sighed, throwing the covers to the side as he rolled out of bed. Hissing indecently at the frigid chill as he padded across the room in nothing but his underwear. Too bleeding tired to think of civility or even common decency as he swung open the bedroom door. - He was going to regret this. He just knew it.

"Oi, you lot! _Toil and trouble!_ …Come on then." He called, rolling his eyes at the skittering stampede and muted crash that followed. A noise that signalled the untimely death of at least _one_ designer lamp as well as that of his better judgement as the two of them tumbled through the threshold like an order of fresh hell. Cooing and clicking with excited content as they rubbed against him. Butting at his bare legs and wriggling their stubbly little tails in false innocence as he pointed them sternly towards the bed side rug. Even going so far as to tap his foot in impatience until the pair curled into each other, readying themselves for sleep as he tossed them one of Connor's blankets.

_Just in case._

"It's only for the night." He remarked firmly, all but oozing back under the covers as his lids grew unaccountably heavy. "So don't go picking out new drapery and colour schemes just yet." He finished, raising a tired brow when the pair simply chirped cheerfully in reply. – Which, for the sake of his insanity, he decided to take as a yes.

And if he ended up waking up the next morning all but _draped_ with far too much warm, scaly skin. And stuck square in the middle of a chaotic mess of blunt edged claws and a twin pair of blissful, sleep slackened muzzles snuggled firmly into the curve of his naked back. He decided to save getting suitably cross about it. - _This time._

Or at least he had been until he found the trim on his waxed, alligator leather Louis Vuitton's nibbled straight off and lizard drool strung clear across his best velvet cummerbund. – End of the world or no there were limits to even _his _patience.

But if their time-out in the broom closet was a bit shorter than usual he told himself it was only because he had a crucial meeting with Ministry of Defence to get to and had no desire to be stuck in Saturday evening traffic. - Though even _he_ wasn't exactly sure how to explain away the handful of apple slices he'd slipped them as he'd left. Lips twitching upwards as the echoes of their happy, farewell chirps followed him all the way down the hall.

_They'd find them. They had to._

But at least until then, the house wouldn't seem so bloody quiet when he got home. And strangely enough, for some rather daft reason, that knowledge felt remarkably similar to that of a comfort. - Destroyed suit jackets and velvet cummerbunds not with standing..

**A/N:** Please let me know what you think? Reviews and constructive critiquing are love!

_"Bad things do happen in the world, like war, natural disasters, and disease. But out of those situations always arise stories of ordinary people doing extraordinary things."_ - Daryn Kagan


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